


Memento Mori

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: Robin Hood (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-16
Updated: 2012-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, at Marian's grave, he made the vow to avenge her and spill Gisborne's blood with the very blade that killed her. (Post season 2.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memento Mori

Robin keeps the sword, for sentimental reasons at first and later, he tells himself, because it would be a waste to throw such a fine blade away. Much doesn't like it, and John calls him morbid. Allan never says anything, but his eyes are drawn to the sword like moths to a flame and his expression is unreadable. Robin wonders whether Allan ever regrets not staying at Gisborne's side, back in the Holy Land. He tries not to think of it, himself, because one 'what if' will lead to another, and there's no use in contemplating what might have been if they hadn't made the decisions they did, if they had taken the other path at a crossroad.

The sword hangs at his side, a heavy memento of what once was and will never be again, and a reminder of what he's fighting for. Or maybe of what he's fighting against; it's altogether too easy to mix up those two. Once, at Marian's grave, he made the vow to avenge her and spill Gisborne's blood with the very blade that killed her. But sometimes, in his darkest moments, he thinks it wouldn't be a bad thing to feel its kiss himself.

When he and Gisborne finally stand, facing one another, and Robin draws the sword, his opponent takes a step back. Gisborne's eyes are fixed on the blade gleaming in the sunlight, and he's making no move to draw his own weapon.

"How could you keep it?" There's a catch in his voice, and his hands are clenched into fists.

"What, you want it back because it's _yours_?" Robin taunts, making a show of turning the sword over in his hands and looking at it in fake appreciation.

Gisborne's reply is nothing like he's expected, though. 

"I wouldn't touch it if my life depended on it," he spits, and for a moment Robin thinks he can see anguish rippling across his features. He wonders if Gisborne remembers the last time he's seen that sword, if the images flicker through his mind now. Robin maliciously hopes that they will haunt Gisborne forever.

"Isn't it a little late for remorse, Gisborne?"

His tone is harsh and unforgiving, and he wishes that Gisborne would draw his sword already so that they could finally have it out.

But all he receives in response to his taunts is a withering look. "I've been living with my guilt ever since the moment that sword pierced her skin," Gisborne tells him, forcing the words out between clenched teeth by the sound of it. "Not a day goes by that I don't pay for what I've done. What about you, Hood? You're as much to blame for her death as I am."

"It was your swords that killed her, Gisborne. How is any of this my fault?"

Yet even as he speaks the words, he realizes the lie. It was him Marian died for. Without him, she might never have been in the Holy Land to begin with. Without him, she wouldn't have played games with Gisborne, feeding him honey-sweet lies. Without him, she would have been Gisborne's wife months ago, and maybe she wouldn't have been happy – at least Robin tells himself she couldn't have been, because that's what he needs to believe – but at least she wouldn't be dead and buried under foreign skies.

And maybe that's why he has the sword, not to kill Gisborne or for any of the reasons he kept telling himself, but to remind himself that it might as well have been his hand that pushed the blade into her.

The sword feels heavier in his hand than it used to, and when he looks at it, it seems different somehow. 

He'd almost forgotten about Gisborne's presence. Just as he reaches out to touch the blade, the other man speaks again, and Robin jumps, cutting his hand on the sharp edge.

"Throw it away, Hood, or bury it somewhere. Just… get rid of it." He sounds almost pained, and so very tired.

Robin's eyes briefly flicker up to Gisborne, then back to the cut on his palm and to the hint of red on the shining silver of the blade.

"There are too many things I've already buried," Robin says, and he himself can't tell anymore whether it's an accusation, an admission of guilt, or just a simple statement of fact. Perhaps, it's all three of them.

"You can't hold on to it forever."

Robin shrugs. Maybe he needs to hold on to it, because throwing away seems to be the easy thing to do, and somehow, this shouldn't be easy. "Why not?"

"Because as long as you have it, you will always remember her like that. Bleeding and dying, with this thing stabbed right through her." The pain in Gisborne's voice makes the mental image painted by his words seem more vivid, and the memories flash through Robin's mind like a million tiny cuts with the blade. "And that's not how she should be remembered. She was so much more than that: she was alive and proud and beautiful, and she deserves to be remembered like this."

The worst thing is that not even Robin can deny that Gisborne is right.

When they part ways that day, it's with a new, tentative understanding, and Robin can't help but wonder how long it will last or where it'll take them. 

He buries the sword near the cave where, a little over a year ago, Marian almost died when Gisborne had stabbed the Night Watchman. It seems appropriate somehow. When he returns to the camp later that night and Much asks what happened to the sword, Robin tells him he lost it. He knows no one believes him and they all eye the cut on his hand sceptically, but they don't ask any question because everyone is secretly glad that the sword is gone. 

Sometimes, though, Robin feels a phantom weight at his side, and he catches himself reaching down to where the sword used to be. 

End.


End file.
